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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421477">the things that matter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxnthea/pseuds/Noxnthea'>Noxnthea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>soft, sweet, sunshine things [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cis Author, Established Relationship, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Bucky Barnes, M/M, Motorcycles, Non-Binary Bucky Barnes, because clint loves bucky in any way they'll let him, just a shitton of adoration tbh, soft things</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:35:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxnthea/pseuds/Noxnthea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Most of the time, Clint found himself surprised that other people got so caught up in the idea of gender fluidity, because outside of how much it mattered to Bucky personally to be seen as who they were, there were infinitely more reasons why their gender identity didn’t change who they were that getting caught up in it just didn’t make sense to Clint. </i>
</p><p>  <i>For instance: </i></p><p><i>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when it came to telling Clint they loved him, because </i> “emotions don’t have genders, what the fuck?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>soft, sweet, sunshine things [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2021 Winterhawk Valentine's Day Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the things that matter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexbatch/gifts">vexbatch</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for @vexbatch’s lovely prompt: Clint entranced by genderqueer Bucky Barnes. </p><p>Lemme preface this by saying: I am not genderqueer, but I can identify with loving and cherishing people of all gender identities. I did my best to bring positivity and love to this community, and hope there are other people who feel reflected in this piece.</p><p>Thank you x a million to @flowerparrish for giving this a sensitivity reading. </p><p>All mistakes, both grammar and otherwise, are of course my own. @ me on <a href="https://noxnthea.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>  or in the comments to help me be better.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On days when Bucky felt masculine, he rode motorcycles, and sometimes, Clint was lucky enough to ride along with him. </p><p>The bike would thrum underneath them both, a rolling purr that rippled its way between Clint and Bucky, connecting them in the way that shared experiences do; all immersive and enveloping in a way that shook down their legs and up their spines. Bucky always drove, and while Clint used to prefer to be the one on the throttle, his mouth just about dried up every time he saw Bucky waiting for him, roar of the motor reverberating through the garage, and he’d clamber on behind Bucky without even a token attempt at arguing the point. They’d be out from under Stark Tower and ten minutes through Manhattan before Clint even realized they’d breached sunlight half the time, as distracted as he was by the way Bucky’s thighs felt between his knees and the way his leather-wrapped torso tightened and tensed under his palms at every ebb and flow in traffic.</p><p>It wasn’t, they told Clint, that motorcycles were inherently masculine because ‘<em>that’d just be sexist, dumbass,’ </em> but sometimes it was that Bucky felt more like him than them on those days, which sometimes meant that he wore more henleys or that leather jacket or those shit-kicking boots instead of wearing mascara or their hair in a braid or their favorite skirt which showed off just enough thigh to make them feel scandalous and Clint feel hella appreciative.</p><p>Clint really liked when Bucky rode motorcycles, though, to be honest, he’d probably jump on behind if Bucky was in their favorite yoga pants and crop top ensemble, instead of the boots and the jacket and the henley. Clint, if he was going to be <em> entirely </em> honest, would probably follow Bucky onto the back of just about any motorized vehicle wearing just about any type of clothing.</p><p>Okay, <em> fine</em>, there was no probably about it.</p><p>Clint would follow Bucky anywhere, in anything. </p><p>See, it didn’t really matter to Clint how Bucky was feeling on any particular day of the week, so long as they always knew that Clint was always okay with them feeling exactly how they felt at anytime, anywhere, in anything. </p><p>When Bucky first told Clint that they didn’t feel like a guy more often than not, Clint didn’t understand, but he knew right from the get-go that his understanding wasn’t the important thing; what mattered was that he accepted whatever Bucky told him as fact and that he continue to try to understand for as long as Bucky allowed him around. </p><p>And that was the thing, wasn’t it? He knew right then that he’d do whatever he could to keep himself in Bucky’s orbit, and that a little thing like gender fluidity was hardly going to be a barrier to proving to Bucky just how much he loved them. </p><p>What was also important was that Clint always remembered that no matter how small a barrier Bucky’s gender identity seemed to him, it was a matter that mattered to Bucky. </p><p>So that’s why Clint did his best to prove to Bucky over and over just how much it didn’t make a difference how Bucky felt when it came to Clint loving them. </p><p>Most of the time, Clint found himself surprised that other people got so caught up in the idea of gender fluidity, because outside of how much it mattered to Bucky personally to be seen as who they were, there were infinitely more reasons why their gender identity <em> didn’t </em> change who they were that getting caught up in it just didn’t make sense to Clint. </p><p>For instance: </p><p>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when it came to telling Clint they loved him, because “<em>emotions don’t have genders, what the fuck?” </em></p><p>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when it came to sparring and training because they both knew that Bucky could put Clint into the ground any day of the week. Besides, <em> “you want to try telling Natasha that gender matters when it comes to kicking ass?”  </em></p><p>(For the record, Clint didn’t want to tell Natasha that gender mattered when it came to ass-kicking—he wasn’t a complete idiot.) </p><p>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when Clint wrangled them into watching Dog Cops, just like it didn’t matter when they convinced Clint to watch the Great British Bake Off or the Bachelor, because “<em>if appreciating a damn beautiful trifle or shit-talking garbage reality romance is only for women, it’s no wonder half of all men can’t cook and don’t know what their partners really want out of a relationship.” </em> </p><p>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when they beat Clint resoundingly at Mario Kart for the 95th time because everyone in the tower could agree that it really was “<em>a damn shame that it’s a novelty for girls to like video games, when really, everyone could benefit from the fine-motor skills and tactical analysis most modern games help you develop—oh shut the fuck up, Stevie, I do too know how to turn my soldier brain off—you’re gonna try and tell me that I’m wrong?!”  </em></p><p>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when it came to looking out for Clint on missions and at home. They’d do that no matter what; they’d gotten enough practice mother-henning Steve back in the thirties, like hell if they were going to stop nurturing the people they cared about just because social standards dictated otherwise. Bucky’d looked Tony right in the eye when he’d made a joke about Bucky being a mama bear, because “<em>you’d think society would’ve learned a thing or two about how you can be a man and still care about your friends over the course of a century, Jesus.” </em></p><p>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when they went to bed, because no matter how they asked Clint to treat them, Clint knew that people of all genders might like to feel a little in control some nights or a lot of completely in someone else’s control other nights. Clint knew enough about his own preferences in that regard that he was always okay with how the coin fell when Bucky’d either look up at him through their lashes and say “<em>you okay takin’ care of me tonight, baby?” </em> or march into the room all domineering and powerful and say, “<em>don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take good care of you tonight.” </em> </p><p>It didn’t matter how Bucky was feeling when they’d turn to Clint for comfort, when the two of them would curl up together on the couch in the middle of the night, each chased out of bed to the tune of their own nightmares, haunting melodies that didn’t give a shit who felt like a human being, let alone like a man, a woman, neither, or anything else in between. Those nights it was enough for Clint and Bucky just to recognize the humanity in each other and remind themselves that no matter what, they’d be there to recognize and validate every single way that their humanity manifested itself. Those nights they’d hold each other close, soothing hands simultaneously smoothing away fears and reaffirming their permanence in the world and with each other, because “<em>at least no matter how dark it gets, I know when my eyes open it’ll be to your sunshine. No, you idiot, don’t ‘Bucky’ me—you fucking love this cheese and you need to learn to accept a compliment; you’re no less my man for being my sunshine.”  </em></p><p>So regardless of how Bucky felt any particular day of the week—regardless of how they dressed, how he chose to express his masculinity one day, or their androgyny another—Clint was just grateful Bucky let him love them. </p><p>And so love them Clint did. </p><p>Sometimes loving Bucky meant reminding people repeatedly that just because there were days when Bucky was okay being he, it was always better to default to they if someone wasn’t sure; he knew that even though being perceived as male was sometimes accurate, Bucky’d rather dwell in people’s heads as them than be misgendered continually on days when being called him was really, really wrong. </p><p>Sometimes loving Bucky meant loving their body, which usually meant touching them all over, hands cherishing and thoughtful or rough and possessive, but sometimes meant staying as far away as Bucky wanted until they told Clint otherwise. </p><p>Sometimes loving Bucky meant complimenting the fuck out of Bucky’s clothing choices, waggling eyebrows and wandering hands accompanying effusive praise and exuberant appreciation, but other times it meant ignoring everything but the presence, or lack thereof, of the thin leather bracelet that Bucky occasionally wore to indicate how strongly he felt like expressing his masculinity that day. </p><p>But there were some things that loving Bucky <em> always </em> meant, too. </p><p>Loving Bucky always meant remembering to pick up Clint’s damn shoes and spare arrowheads because “<em>I know I’m not a bachelor anymore, baby, I’m sorry you tripped over my shit, I’ll pick things up as soon as I get home.”  </em></p><p>Loving Bucky always meant leaving at least half a pot of coffee ready and warm on the machine because “<em>as much as you mean to me, sweet cheeks, ain’t nothing so painful as dealing with an under-caffeinated Bucky Barnes in the morning—what, hey, no way am I worse than you!”  </em></p><p>Loving Bucky always meant stopping at the local kosher delicatessen for matzah ball soup and babka a couple times a month instead of just pizza like Clint used to, because comfort food transcended cultural borders and “<em>yeah, yeah, I know you said you didn’t need it, but I fucking know how much you love this stuff, and it’s okay to remember your family even if you don’t go to synagogue anymore.”  </em></p><p>Loving Bucky always meant apologizing for mistakes when they were made, for forgetfulness when Clint was tired, for mutual frustration when Bucky didn’t have an answer or an explanation, because <em> “I know it’s not on you to protect my feelings when you’re feeling like this, just like it’s not my responsibility to make people feel less guilty when they forget about my deafness.”  </em></p><p>Loving Bucky always meant reminding them of how perfect for Clint they were, because “<em>don’t you know I wouldn’t have you any other way than exactly how you are right now? I’m just lucky you let me be here with you.” </em></p><p>And really, that was it. </p><p>Clint was one lucky motherfucker for getting to be with Bucky Barnes. </p><p>On days when Bucky was feeling masculine, he rode motorcycles, and Clint was lucky enough to be the guy who sometimes got to ride along with him. </p><p>And on days when they weren’t, well, Clint was just as lucky to be the guy who Bucky came home to. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again to @vexbatch for prompting me this and giving me the space to allow my headcanon Clint to love and cherish this Bucky as this Bucky deserves to be loved and cherished. </p><p>If you liked this, make sure to check out all of the other authors on here who can speak with much more authority on what it means to be genderqueer and who helped me fall in love in my own way with genderqueer Bucky. Some include <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish/works"> flowerparrish</a> (thanks again, Peregrine, you absolute golden human!!), ACometAppears (have you SEEN <a href="https://jaybrogers.tumblr.com/">his ART?!</a>) and Poe (holy hell their <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007417"> Radio Nowhere </a> resided in my head for weeks!!). I’m forever grateful to them and all of the other incredible creators who put their hearts and souls into making fandom more inclusive and reflective of their lived identities.</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/31139117">[podfic of] the things that matter</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish%20Pods">Flowerparrish Pods (Flowerparrish)</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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